


Humanity isn't Achievable Through Science

by GorgonizedGalaxies



Category: Za'Marxinzax
Genre: M/M, MARVEL YOU WILL ACCEPT MY GAY VILLAIN, i will make him a thing, this is my attempt at a good backstory with some pron and love and murder, this needs to be turned into a comic and sent to marvel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 21:47:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7009369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GorgonizedGalaxies/pseuds/GorgonizedGalaxies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my baby Za'Marxinzax's backstory<br/>this is le first chaptard<br/>plez enjoy</p>
            </blockquote>





	Humanity isn't Achievable Through Science

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stellar_Anarchist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stellar_Anarchist/gifts).



“I’m so sorry…”  
Not another word needed to be spoken. They knew what was wrong. They knew they had failed. They knew that their child had died. A stillborn, not even named; it lay there in the arms of the crying woman, shaking lifelessly with the shuddering wails of the mother. Her husband stood with a posture of slight morbidity, tears clearly shining in his eyes. Something he never wanted to go through and here he was; present at the birth of his deceased son, he stood on the verge of crying.   
The doctor just stood there, arms folded as he mourned with the almost parents. He let out a sigh, at a loss of words and closed his eyes. An unnamed child, unalive baby… a precious human being that had no chance of survival stay in the lady’s arms for quite some time.  
It was a sad, sad, uneventful day.  
***  
“Do you have a DNA sample?” A man, Doctor Robert Childress, asked the anxious adults. He knew what he was doing was a private and classified case; but he needed DNA. No RNA, no DNA of an already living person. He didn’t intend on growing a clone, he intended on growing a child.  
“Y-yes, please… just please help us and give our baby back to us!” The woman was already sobbing, and her husband had to hold her shoulders to keep her steady.  
“I cannot guarantee direct results right away. However, please know that we will try to… succeed. We will inform you on any updates.” Dr. Childress, a well-educated and secretive man, responded emotionlessly to the embryonic parents.   
“Okay, then h-here…” The lady pulled out a small jar from her purse, something she held dearly. It was the umbilical cord of her stillborn, something she preserved.  
“Thank you.” Dr. Childress turned away after grabbing the jar and holding it firmly. With a snap of his fingers, guards moved in front of the aspiring parent’s views.  
And not a second later, both of them lay dead on the floor, gun wounds straight to their heads.  
***  
[1 YEAR LATER]  
Not everything turned out as planned. However, Dr. Childress had a body growing with the DNA provided with the not-quite-parents’ stillborn. Project Z.M.A.R.X.Z.X. was the name, initials for all the main project’s leaders.   
Initially, Dr. Childress intended on growing a human being. Given the DNA, he expected a child to be grown; he wanted an exact, living replica of the stillborn.  
But, as things turned out, the body began to grow; it began to expand past that age, increasing muscle mass, gaining a legitimate posture, and fully developing organs. Not too long after the body grew upright and muscle began to compile, skin began to grow. Beginning at the tips of his extremities and growing inward, it inched closer to the center of his chest each day. Project Z.M.A.R.X.Z.X. was turning into a grown man, an average, healthy man. The DNA was the same as the umbilical cord’s, and from there he only grew. If the stillborn had been born alive, this is what he would’ve grown up to look like. If he didn’t gain weight, get scars, or anything to physically damage his own body. This was the alive, adult version of that child.  
However, every day as the skin grew, the body began to give off… living factors. His body, Project Z.M.A.R.X.Z.X.’s, wasn’t fully developed and his brain began to function. This was bad, this was what Dr. Childress had hoped to avoid at all costs. With a functioning brain, The Project would being to access his lungs, and in a liquid filled vessel, he would drown. With no other choice, and insight of trying for the forty-first time of creating a fully developed human being, he ordered The Project be brought out of his conduit.   
Project Z.M.A.R.X.Z.X. was put under, with doctors and scientists alike trying to allow him to finish growing his skin. But, without the nutrients and necessary ingredients, skin could not be developed fully. What the geniuses did find was that the muscles grew a thick barrier; almost like a thin sheet of glass. Almost as if the muscles themselves hardened up. It made The Project’s muscles appear glossy, or made of glass skin. When motivated to move the arm, and see if it would bend correctly, they stared in astonishment. Not only did it bend when prompted, but it did it so smoothly and efficiently, and at a rapid pace. The process was quick and seemingly effortless. This was his new ‘skin.’  
After testing the DNA and various other processes, The Corporative Team awoke The Project. They put him in a bright, white, empty room; with nothing but a cot and a few one-way mirrors for observation. He lay nude on his cot, slowly coming out of his deep sleep. As he began to stir, he blinked and yawned, followed by some simple grunt-filled stretching. Realizing he was, he jolted up and began to look around. Staring at his limbs, at his own extremities for the first time, he grew panicked and began to glance around for a way out. His legs had skin that grew up from his toes and stopped mid-calf. The same went for his arms to his elbows, his head to the base of his neck, and of course, his genitalia and inner thighs to the base of his abdomen and lower back. The rest was his muscle, pure solid flesh with no protective organ; only a thin, hard layer of odd, elemental material. He stumbled around, not used to walking. Dragging his feet, he advanced toward the mirror, intrigued. Without words, he looked at himself, not knowing who or what it was, or what it was doing. A small click sounded and he turned around. To his amazement, a door was opened, and two people walked in. Not knowing who or what they were, either, he walked toward them cautiously.  
They were two men; one was blonde, like The Project. He was healthy, from the look of it, not terribly muscular, but healthy. He was near average height, around a meter and a half. His hair was long, and he wore a long white lab coat. His name was Samuel. He held a clipboard with a thin pen. The other man was very tall, not as tall as The Project, but tall enough. He had facial hair, supported by short brown hair. Unlike the blonde, his structure was big. He wore a scowl, maybe it was his normal face, or maybe it wasn’t. This man was named Giuseppe.  
“Hello,” Samuel said, calmly. He watched The Project. “Son, do you know how to talk?”  
Giuseppe rolled his eyes, mumbling. “Of course he doesn’t, Sam,” He walked over to The Project, looking at him. “He doesn’t know anything.”  
The Project, or Z, looked at the man who was a few inches shorter than he. He watched him with wide eyes-- not from fear, but curiosity. Sam caught up, shuffling over, taking constant notes.  
“I will call you Z.” Samuel looked up from the clipboard and pushed up his glasses. Using the hand holding the pen, he pointed to the project. “Z. Your name is Z.” He pointed to himself. “Samuel.” Back at Z. “Z.” Samuel repeated this a few times.  
Eventually, Z grasped the idea. Though he was an almost artificial human, he understood this naming process. He looked at Giuseppe and pointed to him quizzically. Samuel looked at his lab partner, and then to the one they were to mentor. “Giuseppe. He is Giuseppe.”  
“Jih… Jihseppi?” Z looked at Samuel. “Sam… yule?” He gestured to himself. “Zee?”  
Samuel smiled. “That’s right. Good job!” Giuseppe rolled his eyes.   
“I guess then maybe we should start teaching him other things, huh?”  
“I guess we should.”  
***  
Many, many months had passed, eventually turning into a year, two years, five years. Five years had passed and Z had grown mentally. Obviously, not physically, he was a grown man. The Corporation found it odd, after each night, their project seemed… new. Almost as if he had shed his old body, and replaced it with a new one. There were no signs of this, however, and they had no idea what was going on. It was as if his body just reset.  
Which, it did, but they weren’t ready to accept that, nonetheless think about it.  
Z stayed in his room, reading, writing, drawing… doing whatever his mentors deemed necessary. They taught him for five years, but now Z was at the peak of utter brainpower. He knew about everything, be it a little or a lot, there was nothing he hadn’t already heard about. He knew of all the languages, be it ancient, primitive, or tribal, he knew about it. He may not have known how to speak it, but he knew about it. He aced every math assignment they gave him, passed all of his physical tests, he studied diligently. Everything. Everything and everyone, there was nothing he did not know.  
Nothing.  
Including why he was put here on this earth, where he came from, what his purpose was. The purpose was also…  
…Nothing.  
They said he was a scientific revolution, but why? He didn’t understand what his main life purpose was. He only knew that the way he was created was insane, and a turning point in the history of humanity.   
But Z was brought out of his philosophical thoughts and orders when the door to his room opened. He continued reading quietly, keeping track of the storyline. Because he was the base of all humans, never taught otherwise, he could focus his attention on five different things at once.   
“Hello, Samuel. Giuseppe is not here today?” He stayed turned away, his uncovered back hunched slightly as he sat perfectly balanced on his cot, legs crossed. His chest heaved lightly, each of his breaths were taken in equally, perfectly balanced.  
“Sadly, no. How did you know?” Samuel’s hair had stayed the same length, but did happen to begin to grow softer, color-wise. He got older each year, on the peak of forty-five.   
“You know why, my friend. I have explained it to you at least five different times. Do you not tire of hearing it?” Z looked at the page number of his book, shut his eyes, and stored it in his close range memory; he would continue reading it later. Closing the book, he stretched out both arms simultaneously. He stood as well, hopping up gently. Turning on his heel, he faced Samuel, his icy blue eyes piercing.   
“I really do not. It’s quite interesting. You are the best human on this planet, Z. You know pretty much everything; you’re not only intellectually but also physically the strongest. It is a wonder how you’ve managed that, but you have, and that’s all that matters.” Samuel pulled out his clipboard.  
“Again with that thing? Aren’t my assessments over? Please, Samuel. I am bored with this. I do not wish to learn much else. I have nothing else to learn. I would… When can I get out of this place? I’ve been here my entire life; I do not wish to spend the rest of it here.” He walked over to Samuel, standing in front of his about two feet away.  
“I understand that, but I don’t have any say in that, Z. I’m sorry.” Samuel recorded all of that.  
Watching him do that angered Z. He didn’t know why, but watching him record their conversation, his emotions, it angered him. “Will you stop that?” Samuel recorded that as well. “Samuel!” Z shot out his arm and grabbed Samuel by the neck. “I asked… you a question.”  
“Ghhk..! O-Okay…” Samuel dropped his clipboard immediately and clutched at Z’s hands. His grip was horrifyingly tight.   
“Good.” Z dropped Samuel, and watched him fall down to the floor. He sat there coughing a bit. “Leave. I have… anger to settle.” Z turned away and walked back to his cot. He had forgotten what page number he left on. Growling, he kicked his cot. Unintentionally, he kicked it with enough power it not only went flying, but hit the wall and snapped it. He angrily turned back to Samuel, who was just now standing up and brushing himself off. He paced to him and looked at him. “Your clipboard trickeries have made me lose my page count. Also, I really don’t want to stay here forever. There’s plenty of the world for me. I want to see it, not study it. Keeping me cooped up was a real dick move, Sam. Now, you will pay.” And with that, he grabbed Samuel’s neck again, but this time with both hands. Twisting it, he heard it crack and watched as Samuel’s limbs fell lifelessly.   
Now Z had two jobs.  
One, figure out how to get out of his prison.  
And two, think of a totally awesome name for himself.


End file.
